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Husbands can be handy critters.

I am short. Well, at least by today’s standards. I’m approximately 5′4″ tall. I say approximately because it depends on the time of day. In the morning upright, evening sagging. That’s life!

My husband, affectionately known sometimes as fuzzy face, is 6′ tall. The things I can’t reach, he can. When something is too low for him, I get it. When I’m feeling down, he is there to help me feel a little better. When he’s feeling cheerful, which is most of the time, he cheers me up. He is definitely a very handy critter.

That doesn’t mean I always understand what he is trying to do. I don’t. Sometimes we are too different and it is almost like we speak 2 languages–male for one language, female for the other. What sometimes feels very reasonable to me, he treats as if I’ve spoken in a language he just does not know or understand. Why? I’m speaking plain English! Aren’t I? I hope so.

I have heard this phenomenon described as–testosterone poisoning. Go figure.

I don’t care. He’s my friend, a cuddly person to hold, a tall person for when I’m too short, a shoulder to lean on, someone to exchange ideas with, someone to listen to, someone to care about. All in all–a very Handy Critter.

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